


Cozy

by Minutia_R



Category: Chronicles of the Kencyrath - P. C. Hodgell
Genre: Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minutia_R/pseuds/Minutia_R
Summary: Stranded alone after a scouting mission goes wrong, Jame and Timmon have to sleep together for warmth--but Jame wants to make one thing very clear first.





	Cozy

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you are squicked by the idea of Jame and Timmon in a romantic or sexual relationship: Fair enough! That would be a pretty skeevy situation, given his past behavior towards women in general and Jame in particular. Rest assured that even though I'm using a trope that is usually played for romance, I intend this piece as 100% gen.
> 
> For those of you who ship Jame/Timmon: No judgement, I ship plenty of messed up things myself. And even if I meant this story as gen, no one can stop you from reading it as pre-romance if you want.

"That looks ... cozy," Timmon said, eyeing the hollow in the snow that Jame had dug out suspiciously. He didn't see how sleeping in the snow was supposed to keep you warmer, but he supposed he'd have to defer to her experience. How had a simple scouting mission gone so wrong?

"Sure." Jame gave one of her feral grins. "Make a move on me and I'll knife you."

Now that was really too much. Weren't they friends? "If you consider me a danger to your maidenly virtue, I'll certainly sleep elsewhere. Your lord brother won't be able to punish me for letting you freeze, since I'll be dead too."

"Shut up, Timmon," said Jame. "And get off your high horse. It's not like you haven't tried to rape me before."

"I never! There's no law against being charming."

"The way you do it, there should be."

"Why, thank you," said Timmon, allowing himself a small, mollified smile.

Jame only rolled her eyes and curled up in the hollow of snow, leaving half of it clear for him. He lowered himself into it gingerly. God, it was cold. But Jame, pressed up against his back, was solid and comforting even through layers of clothes, and her breath against his neck was warm. She put an arm around him, and he stiffened for a moment in shock. He hadn't been expecting that. He should press his advantage. He should--

No.

"Give me some credit for intelligence, if you won't for honor," he said. "I'm not about to physically assault the Senethar champion of Tentir."

"Never questioned your honor. Only your morals." She already sounded sleepy. Was that bad? It might be bad. But her skin, in the few places it touched his, was still warm. Probably it was only the long day they'd had making her tired, and the fact that she was clearly more comfortable sleeping in all sorts of odd places than he was. "Brier won that contest by rights anyway. Bullshit scoring ..."

And she was out.

Her words said she didn't trust him. Her soft snores said otherwise. Timmon found himself oddly touched.

Maybe Grandfather wouldn't be too disappointed if he stayed in his own dreams, just this once.


End file.
